Draw Your Swords
by QueenGC
Summary: Tara's getting tired of fighting in this war of love, so she decides to deliver her finale strike to Pam before waving her white flag...Tamela fic...


_A/N: This is my first Tamela fic. I never actually thought about doing one, eventhough I've shipped them ever since I started watching it back in season 3, and got uber excited when they started interacting in season 4 lol. I was afraid I wouldn't do it right, so I'm nervous about this fic. Anyways, the title of this fic was inspired by a great Tamela vidder(is that even the word?), possible future Tamela fic debuter(fingers crossed), and fun Tamela shipper TrueBloodMashUps who's done a video on the EPIC Romance of Pam and Tara called "Draw Your Swords". Ever since I've seen that video, I've fell in love with the song, always singing it , downloaded it on my phone, and even thinking about learning how to play it on my guitar. The story itself was inspire by our conversation, along with the great Tamela fic writer Nightvowl(aka BKNY). Hope you all enjoy..._

_Disclaimer: Don't own them. If I did, I'd summon Tara to feel on her arms and Pam so she could purr in my ear..._

Draw Your Swords

_Just do it! The fuck do you got to lose? _

She knew exactly what she could lose. And if she doesn't get it when she asks, no _demands_ for it, then she was willing leaving without waiting for the night that it might come. But she was done being patient. She done with the bullshit. She was done with the mixed messages. She was done feeling insignificant to the ones that mattered. The_ one _that mattered.

It wasn't all bad though. The soft caresses. The tender whispers. The protectived nature of her well being. Was it really all worth the foul treatment of her maker?

"No." With the simnple determined word, she finally pushes open the office door she'd been pacing in front of for the past fifteen minutes. She eyes the blonde at her desk, not even bothering to stop her vamp-speed calulating and whatever else to even look at her. Ignoring her. _Ofcourse she is._

"I guess knockin' is a forgotten act of yours." The sarcastic drawl makes its presence with the accompanied clicking and typing.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the remark. _Typical._ "I know you already knew I been sitting outside the door."

"Still, should we talk about the lack of manners?" Still clicking and typing away. Still not even looking at her.

The younger woman's temper was starting to rise, bringing her own bitchy tone into play. "Sure, if we're gonna with yours."

"If you have something to say to me, get it out now before I lose my dear patience." She can hear the irritation in her maker's tone. She can feel it.

She had came verbally armed, ready to say what she needed to say. Even hoped to make it hurt. But instead, her gaze drops to her now figiting hands as her voice drops into a whisper. "Do you love me?"

The clicking stops. The typing stops. And if her heart was able to beat, she was sure it would have stopped as well. "What?"

She clears her throat and tries to put on a brave face, forcing her fingers to stop twisting, eventhough she was absolutely afraid of the reaction she just might get. Afriad of getting the answer that she doesn't want to hear. "Do you love me?"

Pam doesn't bother to look up and just resumes back to her work, trying to ignore the heartbreaking feeling she's getting from her progeny. "What kind of a stupid question is that?"

She could feel her face harden at the non answer. More mixed signals. "If it was so stupid, then why the hell am I askin'?"

"You tell me. You haven't exactly been known to make Einstien decisions."

Quick, like the flick her a switch, Tara slams her fists into the desk, feeling it buckle, sure enough leaving major dents. Sure enough knowing the damage was going to piss off her maker. "Can you stop with the fuckin' insults? I'm being serious here." That finally got her attention, quick. "I've tried. I really have tried to be patient with you."

Pam glares, not wanting to deal with the younger vampire, but she got the feeling she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She leans back in her chair, crossing her leather clad legs. "What are you talkin' about?"

The edge creeps into her voice, tired of her maker playing dumb. "You know exactly what the fuck I'm talkin' about. I'm showin' you night in and night out what the fuck you mean to me. A week ago, I told you how much I love you. And what did you do? You went more cold on me than when my mama held me down in a fuckin' bathtub and ran freezin' water on me for ten minutes straight."

Pam eyes widen slightly at the confession of progeny's childhood. Not now, but one day, she mentally planned on asking her about it.

Tara finally releases her fists from the dented desk and backs away feeling her body uncontrollably shake a little and begins to pace for a moment to collect her thoughts. "I've adjusted to your whole bitch finesse. Hell, I've even come to love that shit. But your fuckin' bipolar craziness has got to stop. I can't have you hold my hand one moment then have me choked against the wall the next. I can't have you caress my face as you fuck me in your office and then tell me to get back on the pole like I'm some fuckin' whore."

She stops pacing, looking at her maker, sending off her pain through their bond. Now was not the time to back down. Now was not the time go soft in this war of love. Now was the time to pull out her verbal sword and strike. No shallow cuts. She wants her to emotionally bleed deep, like the way her own unbeating heart bleeds for her.

"I can't have you hold me as we sleep, whisper in my ear last night, then a few hours ago, tell me what a complete fuckin' waste I am." On the outside, Pam kept her resolve, on the inside, she shield was deteriorating. She knew she would make the last straw sooner or later and she was actually surprised it didn't happen sooner. At the same time, she wasn't. She knew how her stubborn progeny felt and it would take more than a few fucked up words to chase her away. But it would only take three to make it all better. "So either you're either tell me how you fuckin' feel..."

Pam's mind races to the many things that Tara could say next, but decides foolishly to call her bluff. "Or you'll what?"

_Don't back out now. Dammit Tara!_ She takes an unnecessary breath before saying laying it out. "Or I'm gonna tell you to release me."

The drawl shakes a little. She needed to keep her shield up, even if she was in this losing battle. Her sarcasm still in session. "An ultimatum. Nice."

"I'm givin' you a chance to be honest with me. Because I'd rather spend an eternity alone then spend it like this with you." She goes back over to the desk, leaning foward, making sure her eyes lock with her maker's. To let her know she was bullshitting. She needed the answer. She needed reassurance. She need to hear the words. "Tell me."

_Fuck._ Pam keeps her resolve, which becomes harder and harder since Tara's unknowingly pulling out that the one thing that can make her break. The eyes. Those two big, sad, soulful pools of darkness that searches for light in someway. In anyway. In more particularly, from her. She didn't want to drown in them tonight. She looks away. She just needed time.

Time was too late. Tara had been patient enough. And now blood tears threatend to fall. "Fuck you!" Tara shoves the desk foward, pinning her maker into the wall. "I hope you die a miserable bitch, 'cause you just lost the one thing you had left besides this stupid fuckin' club. I hope you rot in it. I'm out."

As Pam watches her progeny walk away, she feels the sharp pain of the emotional stab wounds she just received. Without a second thought, the flips the desk over, all of her paperwork that seemed so important before her progeny walked in sliced through the air, floating down all around them. In the blink of an eye, she ran to Tara, who was the door and turned her around, pinning her against the door, her body pressed close.

Pam's voice shakes with pain and fear. Being face to face with the younger woman who's stolen her heart and now planned on running away it hurt. She had no one to blame but herself and she knew it. "I hate it. I lie awake in my coffin during the day, trying to put together what I feel and I hate it. You're like this goddamn bulldozer that's making my brick walls crumble like it's dried out playdoe and it hurts. But nothing hurts more than you leaving me. I can't let you go. I'll never let you go."

She caresses her lover's cheek, wiping away the crimson tear that continues to fall. It was breaking her heart to see it. Even more, to be the cause of it. "And I'm tellin you now, lookin' you in those eyes that I painfully adore, that I _do_ love you. I don't think'll ever stop." She gives a passionately painful kiss, pouring all of her emotions, tasting blood tears, never wanting her lips to leave the sweet cocoa essence of her progeny. She moans as the shorter woman grips onto her waist, lifting her up and pulling her close, making her legs wrap around her toned baby vamp. Pressing herself even closer. Both of them clinging on for dear unlife.

When their lips separate, Tara cracks a tearful grin. "That's all you had to fuckin' say."

A/N: So...what'd you all think?...


End file.
